Keepe On Your Maske And Hide Your Eye by William Strode

Keepe on your maske, and hide your eye,For with beholding you I dye:Your fatall beauty, Gorgon-like,Dead with astonishment will strike;Your piercing eyes if them I seeAre worse than basilisks to mee.

Shutt from mine eyes those hills of snowe,Their melting valleys doe not showe;Their azure paths lead to dispaire,O vex me not, forbeare, forbeare;For while I thus in torments dwellThe sight of heaven is worse than hell.

Your dayntie voyce and warbling breathSound like a sentence pass'd for death;Your dangling tresses are becomeLike instruments of finall doome.O if an Angell torture so,When life is done where shall I goe?